


confused minds and blurred lines

by awoogah123



Series: Red Means Go [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Awkward Crush, Boners, Crushes, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Mutual Pining, Party, halloween party, team party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awoogah123/pseuds/awoogah123
Summary: “Hey, Smitty,” Jack said, aiming for nonchalance - it was somewhat achieved.Craig turned around, blue eyes somehowglowingin the darkness. He smiled at Jack.“Nice outfit,” Craig smirked, and did he almost lookappreciativeas he took in Jack’s lack of pants?
Relationships: Craig Smith/Jack Studnicka
Series: Red Means Go [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185512
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	confused minds and blurred lines

It was a team tradition that every year Marchy would throw a huge Halloween party for the players and their families - this year was no different. 

Like most other people, Jack liked Halloween - he liked the excuse of eating candy, watching horror movies and hanging out with his friends - of course, things weren’t as fun as when he was a kid and would go trick or treating around the neighbourhood, but hockey players acted like big kids anyway. 

“Get dressed,” Freddy ordered, nudging the plastic bag towards Jack. The two were at Chuck’s place, hanging out with a couple of the other guys before the party started. 

“What even is it?” Jack asked, reaching out and snatching the bag with his right arm. It had been a little over two weeks since he’d hurt his shoulder and he was making the most of being able to use it again. 

Jack had put his trust in his friends to choose his costume, and based on the shiteating grins they wore, he’d made a mistake. 

“Just open it and see,” Freddy urged, pushing the bag to Jack’s chest. Jack eyed it sceptically before relenting and peering inside. 

He _really_ regretted trusting his friends. 

“Where are the pants?” he asked, rummaging through the contents of the bag - there was a white shirt, boxers, socks, sunglasses. No pants. 

The others burst out laughing. 

“ _Guys?_ ” Jack scowled, head snapping up to glare at them. 

“Have you not seen _Risky Business?_ ” Brando asked, face split into a huge grin. 

“No,” Jack said blankly, gaze flicking between his friends. The assholes were _still_ grinning. 

“It’s Tom Cruise,” Chuck elaborated. Jack was still lost - _where were his pants?_ “He doesn’t wear any pants.” Chuck continued, as if he could read Jack’s mind. 

“No pants?” Jack squawked. 

They all started laughing again. 

“Hurry up and get dressed,” Freddy sighed, giving the bag a small shove again. 

Jack changed in autopilot, there was no point in even _trying_ to argue with his assholes of friends - the team were going to chirp him for this _forever._ And to make matters even _worse,_ Craig was going to see him dressed like that - not that Jack _cared_ what Smitty thought, but still… 

“You done in there?” Chuck asked, knocking on the bathroom door. Jack snapped out of his stupor - he most certainly had _not_ been thinking about his teammate that he most certainly did _not_ have a crush on - and pushed himself away from the sink. 

Chuck - or Spiderman - gave a low whistle when Jack stepped out of the bathroom. Jack wasn’t one to blow his own trumpet, but he could appreciate that his thighs looked pretty good in the boxer briefs - the _only_ saving grace. _Maybe Smitty would notice and--_ Hell no, Jack was _not_ going to let himself start thinking like that. 

“Well, would you look at that,” Brando - or Superman - grinned as he stepped into the hallway. “It’s Joel Goodsen!” 

“Huh?” Jack had no idea what the _fuck_ was going on. 

Brando and Chuck shared a look. 

“That’s who you’re dressed up as,” Chuck sighed, giving Jack a light thump to the back of the head, “ _dumbass._ ” 

Finally, Freddy - or some strange-looking sort of bear? - stepped out into the hallway. He gave Jack a cattish grin, 

“I can’t wait to see the guys give you shit.” 

_Asshole._

Freddy was not wrong, the guys _did_ give him shit, but at least Jack could say he was more original than a fucking _superhero._ Luckily after a while the jokes seemed to die down, and the guys were seeming to get more and more drunk. Jack was drinking too, but he was pacing himself - he was looking for someone. 

Jack’s sexuality was not any sort of new revelation, he’d come to terms with the fact that he was gay when he was fourteen. Okay, so being gay wasn’t exactly _ideal_ when playing in the NHL - in fact, it was kind of the _opposite_ of ideal, but Jack could deal with that. The thought of not being able to be in a serious relationship until he retired was kind of depressing, but secret hookups would have to tie him over for the time being. Other than his family, Freddy was the only person who knew Jack’s secret, and he was sure as fuck trying to keep it that way. 

That was why the whole situation with Smitty kind of sucked. Craig was a good looking guy - Jack had appreciated that the first time he’d seen him - but other than the odd workout conversation or smack talk on the ice, he didn’t really talk to Jack. This wasn’t exactly _surprising_ \- what would the veteran have in common with the rookie? - but Jack _wanted_ Smitty to talk to him, _wanted_ to get to know him, and he figured the Raffl incident was an olive branch. 

Jack figured - _hoped_ \- that if he got to spend more time with Smitty, the crush would die a pretty easy death. Two weeks later, that was yet to happen. 

” _Stud!_ ” Marchy exclaimed, slinging himself over Jack’s shoulders. “Having fun?” 

“Yeah,” Jack grinned, chuckling at the older man all but _collapsing_ on him. “I was actually looking for Smitty, you seen him anywhere?” 

“Of course you were,” Marchy grinned, giving Jack a light slap on the cheek. Jack faltered - was he _that_ obvious about trying to spend time with Craig? “Last I checked he was on the deck.” 

_Of course,_ the one place Jack _hadn’t_ been - he’d kind of been avoiding going outside, bare legs and all. 

Once Marchy had been distracted by someone else, Jack headed towards the large french doors that led onto the deck. A large table stood on the centre of the deck, and the perimeter was lined in fairy lights. Half-drunk bottles of beer and red Solo cups of punch dotted the table, and a large bowl of candy stood as the centrepiece. 

Smitty was sat with his back facing the door, gaze trained on the green lawn of Marchy’s backyard, and _fuck,_ Jack really _shouldn’t_ be that excited to see his teammate. 

“Hey, Smitty,” Jack said, aiming for nonchalance - it was somewhat achieved. 

Craig turned around, blue eyes somehow _glowing_ in the darkness. He smiled at Jack. 

“Nice outfit,” Craig smirked, and did he almost look _appreciative_ as he took in Jack’s lack of pants? 

“Thanks.” Jack offered him a bashful smile as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “The guys picked it. I’m-- Joe Goodwin? Joe God--” 

“Joel Goodsen,” Smitty supplied, shaking his head as he chuckled. “You don’t even _know?_ ” 

“No,” Jack laughed, “the guys chose it. I’m guessing it’s from a really old movie or something.” 

“It’s from the eighties,” Smitty pointed out. 

“ _Exactly,_ ” Jack exclaimed. “Old!” 

“I forgot you were, like, fifteen,” Craig said, turning to look at the lawn again - and _seriously_ what was so interesting about that goddamn grass? Jack’s shoulders slumped because he was pretty sure that was _not_ something you wanted your crush to say to you. He wasn’t some little kid. 

“Har har,” Jack muttered, slumping against the wooden railing that surrounded the deck. “I’m twenty-two, so try again.” 

“Right,” Craig muttered, _still_ staring at that _fucking_ grass. 

“And who are _you_ supposed to be?” Jack asked, because he really _didn’t_ want Craig to start distancing himself. 

“Wayne from _Wayne’s World_ ,” Smitty said, turning sideways to face Jack. “I’m assuming you _do_ know what that it is, or is it too old?” 

_Fuck,_ Jack probably shouldn’t have made that old comment to someone who was _born_ in the eighties. He was just about to apologise when he turned to see Craig _grinning_ at him, and fuck if he could even string together a coherent thought after that. 

“Of course I know what it is,” Jack said when he’d finally _somewhat_ composed himself. “What sort of Canadian would I be?” 

“True,” Smitty conceded, grinning to himself as he took a sip of beer. 

“But where’s your hat?” Jack asked - right now Craig looked like he wasn’t even _wearing_ a costume, in his blue jeans and black t-shirt he looked pretty normal. _And pretty hot…_

“Here,” Smitty sighed, pulling a pretty beaten up looking _Wayne’s World_ cap from his pocket, he straightened it out a little before pushing it on his head. “Yaro chose our costumes,” he continued, “if you look hard enough you’ll find Garth somewhere in there.” 

Jack chuckled, riding on a random wave of confidence and dropped into the chair beside Craig. 

When the silence all got a little too much, Jack fidgeted around in his seat. 

“Fuck, my balls feel like they’re gonna freeze off,” Jack said, because _fuck_ he was smooth. He closed his eyes, instantly cringing. Why the _fuck_ had he ever thought _that_ was a reasonable statement to make? 

“Erm, nice,” Craig muttered - as if Jack needed any _more_ confirmation that he had messed up. Smitty turned to face him, bottom lip clamped between his teeth, “You’re gonna have to warm them up.” 

“Right?” Jack chuckled a little, and if it sounded a little breathless, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it. 

“I mean, we can’t have them freezing off, right?” Craig asked, his gaze dropping to Jack’s lap. _Fuuuuuck._ Now was _not_ the right time for his dick to start hardening. 

“ _Yeah,_ ” Jack chuckled, shifting around to try and conceal the growing bulge in the front of his boxers. 

“Might distract you at practice, huh?” Smitty chuckled, and _of course_ that’s what Craig meant - _hockey_. Jack really needed to get his head out of the clouds. 

“Oh, yeah.” Jack forced out a laugh, kind of regretting coming outside in the first place. 

“Just warm it up,” Craig said and _oh my fuck,_ Smitty’s hand was on Jack’s dick. _On_ his dick. 

“What?” Jack’s voice came out as a croak and he looked up at Craig. Smitty’s eyes were clouded over with something - _what?_

“Just warming you up,” Craig shrugged, giving Jack’s dick a long stroke. 

Jack was harder than ever and _fuck,_ please could Smitty _never_ stop? The fact that they were sitting outside their _teammate’s house_ , with their team _inside_ , completely slipped from his mind. It was just him and Smitty and-- 

Craig stood up. 

“I’m going to get a new drink.” Jack watched Craig hurry into the house. 

_Now what?_

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Stolen Moments by the Vamps.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this - kudos and comments are appreciated!<3


End file.
